


you don't have to feel anything

by bobbytarantino



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Everyone Is Alive, F/F, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7497084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbytarantino/pseuds/bobbytarantino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story that starts based off on the episode "6,741" and has added the thoughts of Sameen Shaw during the stimulations and will eventually have Team Machine's conquest to find Shaw mirrored back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. my safe place in a stimulation

**Author's Note:**

> First Fanfic on this site, So hopefully it will go well. Wondering if I should make a playlist to go along with it?

The moment you realize that life has been taken away from you, is when the fantasies in your head aren’t at all what you want. A life that was once yours consisted of three constants: a waging war between two robot overlords (Sorry Root, I don’t find them the slightest bit God-like.) A team that consisted of two nerds, a dirty cop, also two former government hitman if you include me to the equation, and a dog. Last but not least, bad guys.

 

Simple, right? It was all very simple until the evil robot overlord and team captures you. The considerably ugly grey haired scrawny creator-boss-type guy interrogates you on the first night captive. You notice his watch, it tells the day, month, year and of course time down to the millisecond. That is when you decide counting, essentially you believe that’s what has helped you make it this far. The act of counting, A night becomes a week and soon after a week becomes a month. The questions the really annoying-too happy go lucky English guy asks become more and more annoying. Speaking of that guy, One day he asked me a simple question: What is Love to you?

 

Usually, I never answer to questions but he seemed far from his usual self and I felt generous. My answer was “probably some shit people use as an excuse for unlimited sex.” He chuckled but I could tell he was secretly in doubt or regret over an issue. He looked at me again, slightly more meaningful than the last glance and in that moment I discovered his weakness. In the reflections of his eyes and holding in his hands was a photograph of two people. He didn’t show me but his reflection compromised his usual self. The photo was with a girl, looked like his younger sister or maybe a girlfriend. My judgement was limited and Lambert or Jeremy- his name not mattering at all had a weakness. Good to know, I wasn’t completely up against invincible assholes. He was just one of many guard dogs for Samaritan but higher in ranking considering he hasn’t jumped off a building to keep confidentiality.

 

A few days passes and lover boy (what I call Lambert mentally since our little talk) hasn’t come to visit me. But instead, I’ve found residency in a hospital or medical section of the building for injured Decima hitmen. Greer visited one last time before I began my lab rat duties. I caught a glance of the watch and it has been 2 about to be 3 months. He said a few words, nothing of importance but that was when I lost my idea of time. As soon, as I got injected with a fluid to slowly sedate me. I growled in misery only realizing it’s the start of my downhill battle.

 

The first thousand stimulations were so unrealistic and I easily caught onto Samaritan's tricks. The flaw in the first stimulations was the character of John. The small talk and the motivation to save irrelevant numbers was correctly portrayed. But not his emotional perspective, he brought up Jessica and never once has he danced around the discussion of his dead ex in real life. Killing him wasn't a big deal, once I got to the part where I knew it wasn't the real him. Killing myself wasn't a big deal when a confused Harold would ask me where the subway was. Root was never even mentioned in these stimulations but I suspected something involving her to arise- and it did.

 

Progression, as the stimulations got more and more accurate I decided to throw them off in a way that I would soon regret 7,641 stimulations later. Root appeared and my instinctual urge was to punch her god damn face, but instead I kissed her. The kiss soon after reminded me why I haven't put much thought about her. Because maybe somewhere in my sociopathic heart- I care about her and it will get me killed.

 

Time passed and I grew distant in the stimulations so I was taken off for a short while. Lambert appeared and took me on a tour, I killed a scientist for him. I knew she was fake anyways and her life probably was in the fate of Samaritan. He rambled on and on, I finally got to the point I wanted this stimulation to end. But as we headed back to my torture room, I realized it wasn't fake at all. That's when I slowly started to admit defeat to my battle against my loss of reality. The stimulations got to the point where I actively engaged in them and was almost convinced it was real life. Except for one thing and I continued to let Samaritan play with for stimulations until it caught on.

Root.

She was first portrayed as distant and worried about the machine more than the team. Which might be accurate now but then she started to flirt with me. That was the moment my life got taken away from me, the moment Root became my mental home away from Samaritan's stimulations.

 

Every single time I woke up unconscious in a moving subway, the first blurry figure I saw was her. Remembering our short reunion in shop but not completely conscious I mumble words. I missed her voice and now she's removing my implant. Her eyes gleaming lightly with tears but working hard on removing the chip. Every single damn time, I realized that was the moment I can never lose in my head. That moment of eye contact and the care practically screaming from her facial expression. John standing in the background making sure we are protected from any bullshit Decima-Samaritan-Whoever can throw at us. I never gave up my guard but in those moments, I did.

 

A few days, hours, or minutes I find myself in a familiar safe house. Three figures not including Fusco appear - That is when I realize it's starting to seem fake but I continue anyways. Harold begins to speak and I almost instantly get angry, because I know for a fact he's lying to me. He gave up on me and so did the rest of them. Then I remember Root's facial expression, Harold and John leave with the last few words lingering in the air. She starts to sit down on a side of the bed but approaches slowly inching closer to me. Her voice almost consuming me completely but I snap out of it. I tell her I'm not in the right mindset. She looks at me understandingly and respects my wishes- I start to doubt more because the Root I know might have kept pestering me. The word might soon vanishes as I fall asleep for a short while.

 

Paranoia waking me up as usual, I can never sleep anyways. I walk over to Root and tell her that I'm not tired amongst other things. We won't make it out alive and I know this for a fact. Samaritan is going to celebrate over our dead bodies. Instead of receiving a sad look, Root steps toward me and suddenly I recognize the burning feeling in my head- Desire. Her hands find my face but I instantly deny that by pushing her off but still holding onto her tightly. The moment afterward is surely one I will not allow myself to forget. Whether it's the kissing or the god damn aggression coming from the both of us. She finds her way on top of me and I can't help but smile. My zipper already done and I almost let her think I'd let her take control our first time together in bed. I aggressively pushed her off of me and onto the table. Plates crashing shortly after Root landed on top, I kissed her again not thinking about anything other than how I want this to never end. Our clothes coming off so forcefully, I might have to buy her a new red shirt on second thought. Clothes almost completely off and my instincts go haywire trying to take time to look at her beautiful physique but wanting to waste no time. Somehow, we make it to the bed and the pleasure starts. You're imagination can only guess how nice it was, I felt like I was on fire. I wasn't wrong, we are a four alarm fire and the bed with us in it was the oil refinery.

I remember telling John about how relationships were for wimps, maybe that's true but I might consider taking back my feelings toward being held.


	2. a ghost in the machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in a hurry, hence why it's a lot shorter than the first one. I'm always working on improving so any suggestions would be great.  
> I hope you enjoy, I put a few book references in the chapter even in the name. (-:

I remember learning about Root, not her criminal past or her high school stereotype. But what made her, Root and what didn’t make her Samantha Grooves anymore. I guess all of us changed into people we aren’t exactly proud of. Regret is never something I could process correctly in my mind anyways.

The machine started to communicate with me in an odd way. “She” started by ordering hardcover books to my apartment doorstep. (Speaking of high school stereotypes, I didn’t find myself neck deep in literature.) The first book was “Flowers for Algernon” and when I brought it to put up in the library, Harold shot me a concerned look. “Have an eye for classics?” he said in a worried usual Harold tone that makes you question your next move.

Months later, I decided to read the book while held in the subway because my cover was blown. The book wasn’t bad for a time passer. I found a little collection of books in Root’s drawers of her room. It was until the end, when a newspaper clipping about a missing girl fell out of the book. That’s when I started to learn about Root and her origin.

Whether it was books in the library I remembered, that I’d eventually see Root reading. Or the fact I started to recognize how Harold and Root spoke from book references quite frequently. I soon found myself reading all of her books and even some of Harold’s.

When you think about those times it feels like a completely different time era. That you’ll never be able to rekindle again because of Samaritan or because of how Team Machine doesn’t trust you yet. The reflection doesn’t hurt but you remember what is holding you together. She is laying right in front of you and staring curiously back. Root’s always been good at reading people but especially good with me. She probably can tell you’re anxious and her eyes answer the question with tears welding up again.

Her undeniable glances manage to dismantle you farther. The distance apart from each other slowly vanishes and sheets are replaced with bare skin. The night is tender and nothing will ever compare to this feeling. Her facial features outlined from the flickering candles make you pathetically smile and ease into another kiss.

When you wake up it is all a lie. You don’t figure this out until after the paranoia and suicidal thoughts. Root waits for you patiently almost obediently. She coaxes you with words that don’t mean anything, trying to convince you everything is okay. Samaritan isn’t gone and we won’t win. Root isn’t real. You try and make sure of this by flipping through pages of her favorite book: Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. While doing this you notice she isn’t responding in any way towards the sighting of the novel.

“Yes, I found myself, by insensible degrees, sincerely fond of her; and the happiest hours of my life were what I spent with her.”

The bittersweet quote wasn’t underlined or touched by black ink.

This isn’t real at all.

Is it?


	3. Chapter 3

You don’t remember much of anything after last night. Maybe you drank too much or took one too many sleeping pills, who knows. Stirring uncomfortably and squinting at not closed blinds from the apartment window. The sound of a door opening alerts you completely but instead you plop back down at the sight of Root. The bed is too comfortable to leave just yet. Maybe, I have allow myself to heal a little bit. After all, I just escaped from Samaritan’s grasp.

“Hey Baby.”

Your eyes shift almost too comfortably watching if she’s going to say anything more. She tells you to wait for her to come back with breakfast. “30 minutes tops.” She’s a woman after my heart or at least someone who doesn’t want me hungry. I laugh and sit around for at least 15 minutes waiting. Then you realize it’s time, suspicion is getting higher and your stomach is growling furiously. Why not go out for a walk?

You watch Root from a street light away from a Diner. Make a mental note if she’s going to take this long: You get the damn food yourself. But watching, you see her and John talking but spent no time waiting. Anger taking hold of you slightly and you barge in without question.

John looks at you in a belittling way. You’ve had enough of the dishonest behavior from all of them except Root. Even Bear was too skittish around her these days. That’s when a symphony of sounds start to take place. You do the one thing you know best. Which is to start mayhem, Samaritan found you again and it is only just getting started. Two henchmen notice you and that’s when Team Machine is officially back in the game.

After, triangulating calls and enough computer work you find Greer in his warehouse operation building. You get to kill and relish in the somewhat happiness it brings you. Then Greer decides to piss you off even more. He shoots Root, the lousy shot reached her shoulder but it just about makes you want to kill him. But instead you drag him alive to a church and the familiarity strikes you’re mind but leaves instantly. It’s like you aren’t allowing yourself to remember any of this.

Greer gives in and tells you the USB drive isn’t what you think it is. The flashing and the hallucinating starts to take hold of you. The gun fires and Greer is dead. John rushes down and tries to sympathetically reassure you it was okay. You killed Greer but something tells you it wasn’t. It doesn’t change the fact Samaritan is still alive or the fact they are looking for you.

You find yourself in the mist of conversation when John turns on you. It was expected, a good man will always find something to doubt. This time around it was you. A gun is supplied in your hand like last time and you kill him. Watching his last breathes and muscle movements, helplessly falling into eternal sleep and no form of sadness reaches your head. John is dead and no one can save you anymore. The familiar voices in the earpiece sound faraway even now.

Stumbling paranoid in the streets of NYC wasn’t a preferable way to spend the last moments of one’s life. But at least you get to spend a dying wish at home or familiarity. You see Samaritan henchmen and Lambert circling around to try and find you. You almost give up and let them but a strong force starts dragging you away into shadows. Realizing, Samaritan could’ve found me with their God like eye watching at every second. You lead Root to a completely different place than she wanted to be taken.

The little memory flashes in your mind were of a park. Maybe a childhood park or the glitch of a stimulation playing before it’s supposed to. You are starting to catch on and you follow the path you never once took to a playground. This is a complete stimulation. Looking at Root despite the fact she’s a cyber composed version of her real dead or alive self. That’s when emotion decides to find you in the pit of your despair.

You remember what is left in Pandora’s box and maybe that’s what never allows Samaritan to break you yet. In rage and fury, you tell Samaritan’s version of Root she’s the only thing you had. In some form of reality, you aren’t lying but in the final moments of the stimulation you were. You wake up to a pair of goggles attached to your face unreasonably tight and you hear the metronome like sound of perfectly timed footsteps.

Medical tape peels off you and needles are injected out of you. Last but least the head set is removed and you see a smiling face staring right back at you. Lambert starts to speak completely marveled at how you don’t seem to give in. Remaining a stoic expression and not having enough energy to respond. He tells you to get up and you somehow find a little hint of worry in him as he hands you a gun.

Now smiling devilishly you realize what you are doing. It’s another tour but before the instructions are to eat. You even get clothes that somewhat resemble the old ones you used to wear but not quite on par. Even Samaritan has flaws you think to yourself. You soon get escorted to a black Lexus and find the overly happy asshole in the back seat. “London always had a special glow to it at night.”

Lambert nods and hums in agreement and a happy tune. The conversation ends perfectly aligned with the cars screeching halt in front of a restaurant. A neon sign flashing OPEN was all you needed to barge inside. Lambert behind you walking almost prancing in joy which made you laugh a little. This guy is way too happy to be in his homeland you guessed. 

The last time you got let out of the dog cage was in Amsterdam to kill a few beginner suicide bombers from the remains of Vigilance. I guess with this shitty torture treatment you get some benefits. One of the benefits including the finest selection of food when on field trips and the other getting to work out occasionally. Samaritan wanted me somewhat active so I could run errands and sometimes send messages. At this point, revolting would just get you strapped to more unwanted pain medicine and stimulation marathons. 

Sometimes while out, you wondered if you’ll ever be rescued or this whole AI war would end. Personally, you didn’t care who won. Now that you’ve seen both sides of the playing field it was obvious who would win anyways. Considering Samaritan as a new job wasn’t really an option but imagining was still allowed. Imagining put you in danger allowing the stimulations to get more advanced. But you could already tell this imprisonment was never going to end.

Lambert sat in front of you and conversation filled your focus once again. Multitasking was always a strong suit of yours and managing to pick a meal that looked portioned correctly was difficult. As if Samaritan read your mind and told Lambert he chimed in quite happily. “You can order another meal if one doesn’t cut it, Sameen.”

“I am delighted I didn’t have to ask.” I replied and revealed a thin smirk.

Diagonal from us, a couple sat and a middle aged woman with a familiar face appeared in the light. Quickly facing towards him to see if he noticed and he did. “You don’t know her but I do.” He paused with an audible sigh that only convinced you more to kill her. Instincts told you to wait until you learned more information about the target. In which, you did once he picked up on where he started.

“That is Kara Stanton- a beautiful retired coworker of Samaritan’s. I fancied her for a long time it seems to say the least. We went on a few trips together, lovely moments occurred but I was instructed to fake my death during one. That’s the last she saw of me and as promised Greer gave her a happy retirement. On the contrary, I work here until I die and she remains untouched but assured to be safe by Samaritan. Chivalrous deed, I suppose. But I occasionally visit London to see her in secret. Samaritan arranges it so everything goes on course and no covers get blown."  
  
You could tell by his face he was in-pained so you nodded and food arrived shortly after. Eating in silence was never an issue but you found yourself to wonder what's going on in the other side of the world. Maybe one day, you'd get lucky enough to see it yourself. 

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding little tidbits of Shaw and Lambert because despite the overly cheery attitude I enjoyed his character. I will eventually be mirroring Team Machine's issues and Root's POV. Hope you guys are enjoying!


	4. Who is the real target? (Pt. 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter and a part two will emerge, hopefully you will enjoy the hunger games like training Shaw completed. My computer is broken right now so there might be a delay. :(

  
Today is a reminder of how long you've been caged into Samaritan’s wrath. You start to notice the little things in the mind games that aren't what you like to believe is true. Greer, however is basking in enjoyment to his death or how you've managed to continue sneaking glances at the clock. Inside my head, John is not trustable and neither am I anymore.

I used to laugh at the phrase you are your own enemy. Maybe because I liked to believe that I was my only friend. The world itself can never grant you, your wish it can only let you meet it briefly. I call it short commercial breaks of happiness. I also like to believe life gives you a certain amount of those.

I could've never guessed my commercial break of happiness would someday leave my head. Being replaced in tons of fake computer created memories to throw me off and make me surrender. The thought itself angers me but truthfully, I think the memory is hiding to be safe from everything that I can't be.

Active memory might be failing you but you unfortunately remembered the night you a dinner with Lambert. That's when the stimulation ends, the goggles get removed and two shadowy figures emerge. As much as you could care less, a familiar voice starts to speak in a distant tone. Congratulating you on 10 months in torture and staying this long. You sneer in pure disgust but you know it won't change anything for the better.

Greer gives you a hand up, sneakily behind Lambert makes sure to hand cuff you. “Freedom always comes with some limitation, am I right boys?” You chuckle after saying the sarcastic remark and instantly make note of enjoyment coming from yourself. They lead you to another room which appears to be a warehouse training gym. Suddenly they release the hand cuffs and hand you a fake gun, target practice? You settle with a slight smirk from Greer.

The figures you have to shoot are familiar faces, starting with Hersh and Cole. Not understanding why use them as moving targets but shooting them to show no mercy or weakness. Despite, actually liking Cole from a colleague perspective. Greer watching from a glass room impressed at my skills, I know haven't gone away despite being bed ridden.

The speaker booms and says,  
“Miss Shaw you're talents wouldn't go unappreciated for Samaritan.” Snarling as an appropriate response and realizing these damn bastards don't quit. The targets started to become average people, irrelevant numbers as Finch would say. Still showing no sign of weakness, sociopathic killing spree showing Greer I am not afraid. Weakness is unacceptable.

The targets start to become figures that increasingly seem to matter. Carter is dead in real life but killing her again didn't exactly pay too much respect. Slowly but surely, it boiled down to John who I killed without blinking an eye. Harold soon became apart of the dust as well. Finally ending in Root standing across from me, the urge not to drop the gun or face it to my head was hard. Greer’s face studying me waiting for a weakness but the gun shot went through her and she vanished into pixels.

As if it was a reminder of how much I exactly had left of her. The outside world could be completely different now but memories and occasional dinners with Lambert proved some things remained. A door began to screech open and I waited for someone to appear but no one did. The building I was in was completely empty from the sound of it- What is happening?

I found myself climbing a few sets of stairs and I received a tranquilizer gun from a few hit men. I was instructed to what seemed to be a scavenger hunt with people as the prizes. Samaritan almost wanted me to have some enjoyment it seems. The hunt started out with people coming towards me furiously, but as I advanced the game did too. Meeting my skill level and out of ammunition, I fought highly trained operatives to the brink of exhaustion. 

As I walked back to my room or designated holding cage, I realized that when I opened up my eyes again. It was real but today felt like a stimulation.

 


	5. Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote John's POV but soon enough you will have Root's and Shaw's again. I'm going to make this chapter four parts because it is sort of mirroring and compact with details. This chapter is in the time place of season 4 btw. We will soon enough catch up to Shaw's time and the rest of the team.

“Shaw.. Shaw… Shaw!” 

Stirring in her bed, fast asleep John watched Root in obvious distress in her slumber. He had found himself unable to sleep at his apartment that night. So as decided, he headed down to the subway just in case the machine alerted them of a new number. The night itself was a rainy groggy night in NYC and the possibility of crime was plentiful.

The machine gave no phone calls. But the constant sound of rain dripping through the ceiling cracks was enough to convince him into buying sealer. Running errands and being a handyman was probably the closest to normal John has ever found himself. Chuckling and murmuring as walking down the busy streets, “You’d think a former killer for the CIA wouldn't be found doing this."

A few blocks down a hardware store appeared and John ended up buying more than planned. Besides, The subway needs better lighting and bullet proof glass to cover the computer screens. Harold or Root would thank him later for the secret deed.The secret remodeling project while Harold in China and Root coming back late was perfectly timed. Almost as if the Machine wanted it to be done.

While headed back to the subway a pay phone rang loudly and almost startling the man beside it. Rushing over wondering who the next person is, copying down the letters for eventual names. But the message wasn’t a number it was a thank you. John was a little shocked by the direct communication with The Machine. But hurrying back in no time to start his side project instantly before anyone else got back.   
  
Making sure he made little noise to try and let Root sleep in peace. The only noise being produced was the occasional creak in the floor of the subway cart. Root wasn’t John’s considerable choice of co-workers but in the past months the bond strengthened. I guess because over the loss of Shaw, John thought to himself. Shaw meant a lot to the team and her death was questionable.   
  
But Root never stopped looking for her. When Harold and The Machine moved on to other plans, I believe they seemed to push aside the search. Over time the mentioning of Shaw’s Search became scarce which pained me to think of. Root never will give up hope and neither will I. The loss of our friend was unbearing but we have no time to grieve. Enough grieving has been done through my past to let myself hurt anymore. I don’t know if that’s the same for her.

On some nights, I would find myself questioning Root’s whereabouts so I bugged her to see. Usually random places probably being instructed to do work for The Machine. But some places were more frequent than others and I decided to take a road trip across town. A public library and a few coffee shops not really proving to be much help. Only concluding that Root enjoys being a 30 year old hipster which wasn’t exactly a new realization.    
  
Trying to figure out Root instead of tracking her down to kill her was a change of motives. She was a great addition to team and like everyone else she had a great sense of privacy. It’s not like she had anything to hide except her feelings toward her God’s motives and lack of care for her undying question. The Machine was ignoring it for a reason. We just don't know it yet.    
  
  
  
  



End file.
